


The Red Scarf

by Leva



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bathing/Washing, Character Development, Chases, Childhood Trauma, Comedy, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, Literal Sleeping Together, Loss, Love Bites, Mystery, Psychological Trauma, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Reader-Insert, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Vaginal Sex, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22074523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leva/pseuds/Leva
Summary: He woke up in a kikimore nest injured and disoriented. He found it to be a fitting end as the monsters surrounded him. That is until she called them off and let him go. Now he couldn't decide if her scarf or eyes were redder and which one would be more difficult to forget. (Geralt of Rivia x Reader)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Reader
Comments: 15
Kudos: 183





	The Red Scarf

_When he shushed me and dragged me away, I was scared. When he forced me down and tore my dress and his dirty, horrid fingers clutched at my flesh, I prayed, begged and cried. When he forced his lips against my ear and whispered that there was no salvation I stilled._

_Nobody would hear my screams, nobody would save me. He violated me, ripped my soul apart._

_The mud beneath me dried and his grunts turned to weak whimpers._

_They came from the lake, countless, gurgling and screeching and they dragged him away. They tore him to pieces and I watched, my eyes stung and glowed like embers and my tears ran black._

_And I was afraid no longer._

~O~

When the pouch of coin was smacked next to his tankard he only spared it a nonchalant glance before looking back at his employer, or at least the face this small village had chosen to be the representative. He was aware that this man, a simple farmer, could in no way pay for such a job by himself. The whole settlement was in on it, they had all given what they could without cursing their families to starve and they had gathered a good sum in the end, good enough to have the white haired man stay the night at the inn and gather a bit more information on the job that needed to be done.

A kikimore, massive, bigger than any he had seen before according to the words of the villagers. He doubted it, but the frantic stare of the inn inhabitants told him to keep the tales in mind. It had been terrorizing the settlement for a month now and by their words it could change its size and to that he called bullshit. That was impossible, but it did lead him to believe that there was more than one kikimore, either that or the villagers were just blind or too scared to remember properly.

Despite the lively music, the atmosphere in the inn was tense, he could smell the folk were afraid that he will turn away after all their tales and refuse to do the job. However, he was a witcher, this was his path…and he really needed the coin. It was a slow winter, monsters were scarce, the cold had forced many of them in hibernation due to lack of prey and thus humans thrived, at least those who had gathered enough food for the frosty months that had befallen the land.

Thinking back now, maybe he shouldn’t have emptied so much of his copper in that brothel a while back, but the weight of his heart and the itch in his pants had become too much to ignore. He hadn’t crossed paths with Yennefer for many seasons and after countless failed attempts to find her whereabouts he had succumbed to his needs and pain and bedded wenches while drowning in ale until his needy body thought it enough to calm down for some time. 

“I take payment after I finish the job.” his voice was raspy, be it due to the strong ale, the cold or simply because he had been avoiding chitchats all day.

The villager nodded shakily and tugged back the coin pouch he had desperately settled on the table just moments before. He was shaken and with good reason, but he swallowed and dared look the white wolf in the eyes.

“W-when do you leave?”

“Now.” Geralt murmured after chugging down what was left at the bottom of his tankard and setting it on the table “Better scout the village, find tracks, something to lead me.” he rose up and adjusted his pack and cloak, passed by the hopeful stares, which followed his brooding stance and set weight on his shoulders and after nodding the young maiden, who had served him his dinner, left the inn.

The newly fallen snow crunched under his boots, his breath came out in heaps of hot vapor and the cold winter breeze worked quickly to numb the skin on his face. He pulled the hood over his head and turned to the stables where Roach peacefully nibbled away at a patch of whey, stopping only when his master unwrapped the knot of his reins.

“Come on, Roach.” Geralt patted the horse gently on the neck with a bare hand, finding comfort in the animal’s neatly combed fur before slipping his glove back on and saddling him “We have a job to do.”

When he was a fair distance away from the village he looked back, noting the many chimneys blowing out scarves of black smoke, which contributed to the winter vibes, filled the air with a scent of burning coal and wood and played a simple contrast to the sparkling snow which covered everything, a frozen horizon, stretching as far as the eye could see. He heard the people inside their cottages, children bickering over makeshift toys, mothers skittering about, serving tables, chatting with their resting husbands after a long day of hard work. He heard men tell tales to one another, the music from the inn, laughter and merit and for a moment, for a single blink of an eye, he left himself picture such a life for him. Then he discarded it, not giving his heart the time to crave that which it could not have and stirred Roach into the towering trees of the frozen swamp.

It was eerily silent, he rode carefully until he heard the ruckus of the settlement no longer but instead only the cracking of old, sleeping wood and the hooves of his loyal companion. His eyes were adjusted, his senses on high alert, he had prepared, waiting, for if not his smell or hearing, the buzzing of his medallion. He found the kikimore’s tracks, found its blood on the scratched dead tree trunks.

It was wounded, he was unsure by what, but it was bleeding out and it had no doubt converted to rest somewhere nearby until it regained enough strength to move on for another prey. Now it was weak, now was the time to strike it down.

When Roach refused to go further, stopping by a significantly large pond, Geralt jumped off and pushed the horse by the snout, signaling it to step back as he readied his sword. He scanned the pond, more a mess of swamp water and mud to be precise, too thick to be frozen by the cold, but not thick enough for a kikimore to submerge itself into and wait for a chance at an ambush.

Geralt jumped back when the mud burst up with a deafening screech, silver sword held tight in defense as his prediction came true, the kikimore was there.

It swung at him and he managed to slice at its spidery leg, but not hard enough to cut it off. He was forced back into a tree with a loud grunt as Roach squealed and hopped back, hiding behind a patch of thick frozen shrubs, but not leaving without his master.

The witcher stood quickly, ready to dodge an attack, but when it did not come and he found his battle stance meaningless he scrunched his brows in confusion. The kikimore hissed at him menacingly, but did not leave the pond to peruse him, instead it retracted its claws and buried itself halfway into the pond before a gurgling purr came somewhere deep within its throat.

It was a warning. Come no closer if you do not wish death, move along and you will be spared. This time, at least.

“Strange.” was the only word he mustered as he lowered his sword and dared to take a step closer, watching the monster as it followed his every move “No kikimore I’ve ever seen has been a negotiator.”

When the mud reached above his ankles the monster hissed and dug a claw next to him, only inches from his side, and let it slowly sing into the ground. It showed power, that it was still capable of fight, but patience, something Geralt had never expected to see from a creature which followed instinct and nothing else. He stared at the kikimore, eyes locked, and slowly inched the tips of his gloved fingers to the spider leg next to him, when collision happened, he was warned with an inhuman growl and he felt the muscles under the rotten skin tighten, much like his own. The kikimore did not move, but he didn’t dare turn away from it so while continuing the stare down he called for Roach.

It was when he did not hear hooves that he risked a glance back, eyes widening when he saw no horse in sigh and then he turned to the kikimore and was struck to the head.

An ambush.

~O~

Pain. It rattled through his skull, making it hard to regain full body control so he found himself only grunting and scrunching his eyelids hard before making an effort to open them.

“You’re awake.”

The voice echoed, unfamiliar, feminine, startling him to sit up despite the protest of his aching side and with blurry eyes he looked around him, finding himself in a cave. He cursed the ale at first, finding it the only explanation as to why the rocky walls were moving, but then his sight cleared and he sighed out a curse. Kikimores, their skin blended with the cave, they were crawling everywhere, he was completely surrounded and after a brief inspection with his hand on his hip he realized he was disarmed.

Golden eyes searched the area for his sword, pack, anything that could be used as a weapon, but aside from a fresh deer carcass and chewed on bones he found nothing.

“Fuck!” he hissed, the strain making his side lash out in pain at him and he flinched and clutched it, finding it bandaged neatly, much to his surprise.

“They will not harm you.”

The echoing voice had him look up from the patched up wound and if it weren’t for two burning embers shaped into human eyes, he would have completely missed the small figure sitting leisurely atop a rather sizable kikimore. The figure slid off the monster’s back with ease, looking like she’d done it so many times now that she was accustomed to it and with a hand gliding over its pale flesh she walked forward until a stray moon ray peeking through a crack in the cave exposed her face to the witcher.

“Who are you?” Geralt questioned and instinctively crawled back, his face sharp and menacing, warding off any ill intent she might have. Even in such a situation, his instincts forbade him to cower before a monster.

“The one who saved your life.” she stated simply and knelt before him, leaning in ever so slightly to inspect him before whispering “Do you think you’re the first they sent after my kikimores? Didn’t it seem suspicious how much coin they offered you for a single monster?”

She leaned away and settled down a foot away from him, sparing his wound a glance of reassurance before turning her eyes to the small campfire Geralt was yet to notice. In his defense, there were many more things to note first than a simple fire, but when the aroma of the baked rabbit hit his senses his stomach spoke up faster than his mouth could.

“You’re hungry.” the woman more said than asked and retrieved the stick she had spiked the hare on before chipping away a haunch and offering him the rest “It’s not poisoned. If I wanted you dead I would have let the kikimores eat you.” she commented after seeing his mistrust and the corner of her mouth was pinched up lightly when he took her offer after giving her a look.

The gurgling of the monsters around him kept him alarmed, despite their docile behavior, after all, he was a witcher and he knew better than anyone to let his guard down.

“The village has been sending men here since winter fell.” the woman spoke after swallowing and wiping away the grease from her lips “First it was hunters scavenging for food – rabbits, deer. I suppose not everyone made enough food for the winter. But they should have known better. What little prey there is in the woods belongs to the woods. Monsters are predators, they are scary, but they need food too, once the hunters started killing off the animals the kikimores were left to either starve or hunt the humans to survive.” her throat tightened, like there was a stone lodged there and for a moment she found herself struggling to breathe “It wasn’t their fault, they want a chance at survival just as much as we do.” she turned to Geralt and there was hatred in her eyes “They have livestock, I’ve seen it, and instead they came here. For what? So they can preserve their herds for the summer to sell it for more coin! It’s always about the damn coin… And now they send men after the kikimores like they’re the ones doing wrong.”

Geralt had eaten away half of the hare while silently listening, it was a battle in his head, questions speeding into his mind, the answers to which he was unsure he wanted. Who was this woman? How was she alive? How was she living with these monsters? How had she tamed them and where she had come from? Why were the kikimores docile and how had they let her in their den? This was unheard of, not even folk legends spoke of such things, monsters and humans, together, as one. They protected her, if their eyes were not locked on her, they were on him, daring him to make one wrong move before they all lunged at him. How was all of this possible?

Why was he spared?

“Who are you?” it was the first question that his tongue was able to form and if fate was merciful, more would follow.

“I’m a traveler.” she caught his gaze, which was partly hidden behind the hare carcass, and reached to rip away a little bit more meat before scooting back and returning her ember eyes to the fire “But I stopped here when winter fell and the snow became too difficult to travel through. Couldn’t stay at the village, I’m out of coin, have been for a while now.”

“How did you..?” Geralt accepted her first answer and decided not to push further for now. For his next question he looked around for guidance, finding it difficult to stitch it into words “How did you end up like this? A kikimore nest?”

“I chose to be among them.”

The hair on the back of his neck stood straight when one of the monsters crawled closer.

“They are not monsters to me.” the woman whispered and laid her palm flat on the kikimore’s head before placing the bone of her rabbit haunch in its jaws and sending it away “They do not steal, they do not rape and they do not kill each other. Not without reason anyway. They are kinder than humans. Have you not noticed?”

Her questioning eyes had him shake his head dismissively.

“I haven’t really had the time to live among them. I’m a witcher, I study their weaknesses, nothing more.”

“I know what you are.” she nodded “I can sense it. Tis why I’ve had such a hard time keeping them off you. They too know what you are and they don’t like you, witcher.”

“Don’t need them to.” Geralt shrugged “I kill them for a living. What I know is that no monster will spare a human, let alone accept it into their territory.” his eyes searched her for answers, but he found none and he was stuck looking at a delicate face with cheeks reddened by the fire “You did something more than choose them. Are you a sorceress?”

“No.” she answered and lazily stocked the fire “I am a traveler, as I said, and I will not answer any more questions.” the glance she sent him made the meat in his mouth impossible to swallow “Unless you offer tales of your own. Tell me, witcher, does this lifestyle satisfy you?”

“It’s simple enough, but I did not willingly choose this path.” he found himself speaking before realizing, but he dissolved what regret had begun bubbling in his chest. He would probably never see this woman again, they were just two strangers sharing tales, nothing more, so it didn’t matter.

The woman nodded and readjusted the luxurious crimson scarf around her shoulders. It stood out to the rest of her attire, a traveler’s outfit, mostly leather, except the weather worn grey shirt under her vest. Maybe it was stolen, maybe it was heritage from a life left behind long ago, Geralt wouldn’t bother asking of it, it was too small a reason with a short and boring story most likely behind it.

“Your turn, witcher.”

“Why did you spare me?” he wondered if he would regret asking, if the woman wouldn’t just turn the kikimores against him, but her heartbeat did not quicken so he decided against getting ready to run.

“I spare all those who come after us, warn them at first, but if they return then they were too stupid to survive for a long time anyway.” she nodded at the wound on his side “When you fell the kikimore scratched you by accident, I decided to take you back and patch you up, see if you’d share a meal with me or be theirs. Destiny favored you tonight, make sure to remember it.” she stood up suddenly and dusted off her trousers “Destiny also provided you with a prey.” she stepped towards a heap of kikimores and when they spread to give her room Geralt saw the wounded monster twitching on the ground “This one will not survive, it was wounded badly by one of yours, a witcher, his sword cut deep, the silver has poisoned it greatly. You will kill it.” she looked back at him before kneeling next to the clutch of curved spider legs “And bring it mercy. Take its head and claim your reward, then leave and do not return for your own sake.”

He heard the clinking of metal before he saw his pack being pulled from behind the beast, the woman dragged it to him, appearing too weak to lift it on her own, and set it at his feet.

“You will leave tonight, your horse waits for you outside the cave.”

“You spared my life, beast tamer. Are you sure you want me to take one of your own?” Geralt noted how quickly her eyes lost their sympathy when she turned away from the monster to look at him. She nodded and stepped away, but kept her hand to the kikimore’s side and whispered unknown chants under her breath.

“There is no other way.”

~O~

The sun was young, barely peeking above the tree mass when Geralt was finally ready to leave, more specifically when his wound had calmed enough for him to start moving without splitting it open again. His healing rate was one of the few things he was grateful for from everything else which made him a witcher.

After he made sure the kikimore’s head was strapped tightly to Roach’s side he saddled the horse and took hold of the reins. His mind told him to ride, as fast as possible, and to not look back, but he kept the steed still and instead turned his golden eyes to meet red ones, which glowed in the night.

“If you ever change your mind on killing me, my name is Geralt.”

“I pray we do not cross paths again, witcher, and I hold no regrets. I never will.”

The statement slipped past him, he heard only the softness that was her voice, but did not let himself forget what power her frail figure possessed, which was hidden in the cave behind them.

“What’s your name?”

“You need not know my name, but if you wish to find me, though I hope you don’t, look for a red scarf.” she turned her back to him, dark cloak twirling around her in a sinister manner, and slowly made her way to the entrance of the cave “And if you see it, turn the other way.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know. It's a pilot chapter, something of a test how well this potential story will be received. Comments and kudos are always welcome and appreciated. I just finished the Netflix series and absolutely loved them so I decided to dedicate a little fanfic to Geralt.  
> Excuse any spelling errors, I did check, but something could have slipped by me.  
> I hope you enjoy and let me know if the pilot chapter seems interesting enough for me to continue.


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